


the saviour and the saved

by icarusdusk



Series: percy angstson [5]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Dark Annabeth Chase, Dark Percy, Dark Percy Jackson, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant - The Blood of Olympus (Heroes of Olympus), Sad, everyone died its a bit sad, percy uses bloodbending, so they said lets threaten the gods!, they said screw the gods!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusdusk/pseuds/icarusdusk
Summary: Percy and Annabeth hated the gods.They had suffered too many battles, too many deaths, for life to continue the way it had been. The war against Gaea had been the final straw- it was time for change. And they were the only ones with the power to threaten the gods.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Series: percy angstson [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/607504
Comments: 14
Kudos: 168





	the saviour and the saved

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on tumblr @incipientdream (writeblr) and @icarusdusk (fanfic writeblr)!! or twitter @wraithsheart :)

Percy Jackson hated the gods.

He hated their power, their influence, their inability to care for anyone but themselves. They had started wars time and time again, only to leave the majority of the fighting and bloodshed to their mortal, killable demigod children. Percy didn’t know how many friends- how many children- he had lost to fixing the gods’ petty squabbles.

_Too many._

And now here they were: the war with Gaea over, and all they were left with were dead friends and smug gods who believed themselves invincible. The prophecy had been deemed successful, fulfilled, even if only less than half had survived. Chiron had always said that three was a sacred number, especially on quests. Any more and there would only be danger. Percy had yet to prove his mentor wrong; seven had embarked to kill Gaea and only three had returned.

How the Fates loved their twisted games.

Percy could picture each of their final moments.

Hazel swept away, a lost soul claimed by Thanatos when the Doors of Death were forcefully shut. Frank in flames, a cursed child now ashes on the wind with the last of his burning firewood. Jason brutally stabbed, a beloved leader killed for defending his home and his family. Leo torn apart, a broken boy sacrificing himself to defeat Gaea once and for all.

Percy wiped away the now tears flowing down his face. There would be time to mourn later for all their lost ones. Now, now he needed to focus on Annabeth, on Piper, on getting revenge on the gods for all the messes they had caused.

They had won. But at what cost?

Maybe Luke had been right in thinking that the gods deserved nothing. That their immortal existence was nothing but a blight on the world that killed and stole as they so wished. Percy had never wanted to be a halfblood, and now that feeling was less than ever. Angered, he looked up from where he stood, and his heart ached as he watched Piper pull Annabeth into her lap, the two girls hugging and crying and letting out every bit of feeling that coursed its way through their bodies.

He wiped off the blood staining his hands, his face, but it did nothing to remove the tarnish now staining his soul.

They had been in Tartarus for too long, too long, too long. Trapped and imprisoned and confined in the Pit when they were forced to close the doors from the inside. Percy didn’t know how many monsters he and Annabeth had killed down there, if it had been tens, hundreds, thousands. The swing of his sword, the bending of blood, had become complete second nature as they fought to escape. Annabeth had discovered the way out, but it hadn’t been easy. And even though they had escaped, he felt empty, his emotions a wasteland of nothingness.

It had hardly even mattered when all they had returned to was death and war.

Percy sat down on the ground in a slump, Riptide laying carelessly beside him. He refused to move and it was only when, awhile later- Percy didn’t know how long because time had seemed to have lost all meaning- that Annabeth came over and curled herself within his arms. He hugged her close, her hair tickling his chin. Gods he loved this girl so much.

“We need to do something,” Annabeth said. “The gods can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to any of us.”

Percy nodded his head until he remembered she couldn’t see him.

“Yes,” he finally agreed, his voice scratchy and raw from endless screaming.

She looked up at him, and there was a darkness shimmering in her stormy grey eyes, one mirrored within his own sea green, which spoke of nothing but death and destruction.

“Some days I’d just like to grab them by the throat,” she whispered, “feel the blood pumping through their veins as we end them. The gods don’t deserve anything less.”

He could feel the kill she talked about, the close intimacy of such a death. It was scary and yet felt so oddly _right_.

“I want to see the gods on their knees, bowing to us. Give them a taste of their own medicine,” Percy said, his reply sombre, sincere. Annabeth nodded and her hair tickled his chin once more.

The gods had always worried that he was too powerful, that he and Annabeth were too much, too much. And now they were right. No more would they sit docile or idly by; they would be the instruments of justice against the gods for all they had wrought.

He hugged her tighter to him.

And the two of them sat together, embracing each other on the dirt ground at the base of Halfblood Hill, in sight of everyone but without care. The world had shrunk to just Percy, Annabeth, and their collective, haunting anger at the gods.

Until a lone monster rushed towards them. Percy just closed his eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out. Smiled. Opened his eyes, the sea green colour looking like nothing but the ocean at war with itself. He pushed out his hand and clenched his fist tight and now the movement seemed as if it was second nature. A spray of blood showered over him and Annabeth, but he didn’t think to care, only vaguely watching as the monster collapsed to the ground below, its heart completely stopped dead. A whispered shock ran throughout those in the vicinity.

He hadn’t even moved. Annabeth still lay curled within his other arm, the two of them slumped on the dirt packed ground of Camp Half Blood. Never, ever would he allow harm to come to his girlfriend. And though she was so very capable of protecting herself, he reasoned with himself, it still didn’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes looking out for her wellbeing.

Gods, his new powers were dangerous and yet so very mind-numbingly _perfect_. He loved the adrenaline, the thrill, the control it gave him. Never again would the son of Poseidon feel as though he was drowning. He would rather be defeated by lawless immortals ten times over before he felt the water in his lungs, his throat, ever again.

“That’s definitely a skill that would come in handy,” Annabeth said, nestling in even more into his embrace. She no longer sounded afraid of his new powers, but as if she was considering how they could use it to end their enemies and all those who threatened their family.

He smirked. “Definitely,” he replied. And though he didn’t want to, he knew that they would have to get moving if they wanted to finally make a difference with the gods. He stood, putting out his hand for Annabeth to use to pull herself up. “We should go.”

She nodded, and the two of them walked, hand in hand, fingers clenched together.

They walked towards the Dining Pavilion, where Piper had last been seen. Quiet conversations seemed to follow their every move. _They’ve snapped_ , the whispers screamed, _they’ve gone off the deep end. What are we going to do_?

Percy smiled faintly at those he could hear talking about him and Annabeth. Fear alighted in their eyes. He would do what he had to, even if that meant destroying his family to protect it. Even if that meant taking out the gods themselves for all they had done.

They found Piper and Nico sitting on a nearly broken bench in the Pavillon. The two were talking, murmuring, out of earshot of any eavesdroppers. Annabeth gave them both a small smile as she led Percy over to where they sat.

“They’ve reached Elysium,” Nico said, his voice soft. “I forced my father to fast track all applications for the demigods lost in this war.”

A rush of gratitude raced through Percy’s body. Every single life lost only deserved the best in death, and his cousin had made absolute sure of it actually happening.

“Thank you, Nico,” he replied. A small smile graced his tired features.

Piper looked up at him and Annabeth, giving them a scrutinising look. The poor girl looked so, so tired, with tear tracks sprawling down her cheeks and purple bags resting under her eyes. Percy didn’t know how she wasn’t screaming or cursing everything in sight at the loss of Jason, because that’s all he would have done if Annabeth had been killed.

“You’re going after them, aren’t you both?” asked the daughter of Aphrodite.

Annabeth nodded. “We have to.”

Though her voice cracked, Percy knew Annabeth would not back down from the challenge. His girlfriend was anything but a coward, and she would never, ever stop if it meant fixing this horrid, imperfect world they lived in.

“We’re not going to stop you, Percy,” Nico whispered, lowering both his sword and his eyes. “I trust you’ll do what’s in our best interests.”

Percy just offered him a clipped smile in response.

“Of course, Nico,” Annabeth said finally after a moment’s pause. “You’re family.”

Nico nodded his head, as if content with the answer, and wandered off.

And that was the end of it.

“I’ll go help him,’ Piper said. He couldn’t get over how distraught she really looked, her hair and clothes matted with blood, her face still streaked with tears.

Percy replied, his voice low, “Of course. Whatever you need.”

“I’d come help you with _this_ ,” she gestured at the two of them with a finger, “but I fear I’ll just get in the way. I don’t think my heart can take much else right now.”

Annabeth pulled Piper into a hug, and Percy followed suit. The three stood there, for how long they didn’t know, stealing all the warmth they could from the embrace. It felt nice.

Piper yanked away after a while. She waved her hand softly and followed after the direction that Nico had gone in.

It was time. Percy knew what they had to do.

***

Blackjack flew Percy and Annabeth to the Empire State Building at lightning speed. There was no ‘hello, boss’, no asking for donuts, as if the horse understood that time was well and truly of the essence. He dropped them off at the entrance of the building with a small nod of the head. Percy gave Blackjack one final hug, unsure if he would ever see his loyal friend ever again.

Times like these were definitely uncertain.

Next to him, Annabeth let out a deep breath. Percy reached for her hand, grasping her fingers tightly within his. Together, the two of them marched into the Empire State Building, heads high and full of purpose.

The security guard at the front desk raised a concerned eyebrow at the sight of the two of them.

“We need to go up to the 600th floor,” Annabeth said.

The guard coughed. “No such thing, kid.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Percy cut in. “We’re not asking.”

The guard gulped, as if resigned, waving the two of them on. That was somewhat easier and more enjoyable than expected. They avoided the metal detectors and walked to the cramped, closed space that would take them up to the home of the gods.

The music had not been updated in the time since Percy had last been in the elevator to Olympus. The faint liminal piece blasted out of the speakers, sending shivers down his spine. It didn’t match the current mood in the slightest.

It felt like too long until a _ding_ resounded through the tiny space. Percy began to fear; was this the right thing to be doing? The second they stepped out onto the path it would be too late to turn back- it was now or never. But he shook his head. It was the right thing to do. Too many quests, too many wars, too many friends had been lost to Thanatos’ greedy hands.

Percy looked at Annabeth, her grey eyes nearly unreadable.

“Let’s do this, Seaweed Brain,” she whispered. Percy smiled despite himself.

They could do this.

Hand in hand, he and Annabeth walked the road that led right to the peak of Mount Olympus. The very ground hummed and rattled from the pure power that seemed to radiate from Percy himself. He looked around as they made their way, noticing the downturned eyes and almost fearful stances held by the minor gods and the nymphs standing on the sidewalks. And then he realised the two of them were wearing torn clothes, bloodied skin, and unspecified gore from their enemies. Their appearances were at complete odds with their surroundings, the lush, golden home of the gods. The thought made him smile.

They took the last few steps, up the mountain and reached the Throne Room.

The Hall of the Gods was the same as ever. High ceilings, unending light, and the mismatched thrones representing the power of each of the twelve major Olympians. But this time, an air of uncertainty was palpable, clinging to every breath, every whisper of sound.

Zeus was the first to break the silence.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” he asked. His cold blue eyes flashed. “No one, not even our greatest heroes and allies, are allowed to just waltz into the presence of the gods.”

Annabeth took a step forward and Percy had to hold back a chuckle. His Wise Girl could take down even the mightiest of beings with a few well-thought out words.

“We’re really _fucking_ tired,” she said. “We’re tired of being your collateral damage. The more I think about it the more I realise that being a half blood is the worst option in the game of life.” She paused, breathing deeply. “The gods stay immortal, undying, full of magic and power. Monsters are always reborn no matter how many times they die. And the mortals never have to worry.”

She took another step forward, looking down at each of the immortals despite being much, much shorter than them.

“But us halfbloods? We’re nothing but pawns and human shields that get used for the benefit of others. We serve no purpose other than to be killed and inevitably forgotten.”

And though none of the gods had dared utter a word during Annabeth’s speech, Percy realised, each of them looked as though they had aged a hundred years. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, caressing everyone like a curling snake.

“You’ve done enough,” Percy said, taking over the reins. “You’ve all done too much, ruining this earth and what it could have been.” He turned to look at Hera, paralysing the Queen of the Gods with a piercing stare. “I lost eight months of my life when you stole my memories, my family, my camp, away from me.”

“It was a necessary evil, even if you do not seem to understand that, Perseus Jackson,” she replied, raising a manicured eyebrow.

Annabeth scoffed, her face screaming murder. “Letting all those kids be killed was necessary?”

“For the greater good, a few deaths mean nothing.”

Percy could have killed Hera then and there. Great fury trekked its way through his body, and he fidgeted with the camp beads clinging to his neck. He understood that this was his legacy: he was seventeen, he’d soon too much, lost too many people, and it was _time for it all to stop_.

He would do whatever it took to protect his family.

“Luke was right,” Annabeth whispered, near silent. She cleared her throat, before staring into the eyes of the gods and raising her voice to repeat, “Luke was right. You’re all useless, burdensome plagues on the earth. None of you deserve the power you hold within your grasp.”

Zeus shook his head. “You mortals could never understand the pressure to remain immortal, protecting this earth from those who seek to destroy it.”

Percy put his hand on Annabeth’s shoulder. Her eyes flashed towards his, and he gave her a look that was somewhat along the lines of _let me do this bit_. She nodded. He pulled out Riptide and held it loosely in his hand.

“But that’s the thing, Uncle, we do. And I think it’s time for a change in leadership. Kronos struck down Ouranos, and then _you_ shattered Kronos into tiny, little pieces,” Percy taunted. He walked towards the gods slowly, scraping Riptide’s blade along the marbled floors. Never ending, never ceasing. “Jason’s not here anymore to follow in your footsteps. No, you just let him _die_. But maybe I feel like following in the family legacy. Maybe it’s our time to take up the mantle and end all of you.”

Zeus fidgeted in his throne. “I would watch your insolence, boy-”

Percy stopped him from speaking with a flick of his hand.

He conjured the memory of bending Akhlys’ blood, and he used that feeling, the terrible beauty of it, to halt the King of the Gods. A thrill shuddered through him. _He was bending Zeus’ golden blood_. A hush fell over the room until loud protesting broke out. Percy was being yelled at by powerful, powerful beings and yet he had no qualms about finishing his task.

“No, Uncle,” he whispered, “I think it’s _you_ who should be watching out.”

And now there was fear flashing in Zeus’ eyes, bright and palpable among the rolling blue depths. A choked cough tore from his mouth. Percy clenched his fist a little tighter, and Zeus visibly flinched. Annabeth let out a small breath of air, but a satisfied look crested her face.

Percy cocked his head. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?”

Zeus gave no reply other than a breathless gasp.

“You would do well to let him go, Perseus,” Artemis said. The younger goddess looked near pained at the sight of her father’s anguish.

Percy unclenched his fist.

The gods were scared, they were scared, they were scared, he could feel it. He loved it. And glancing at Annabeth, he saw a small smile that suggested she was loving this comeuppance, too.

“We should have just killed you years ago,” Dionysus muttered.

Percy smiled, a haunted, horrible thing.

“But you didn’t. And here we are.”

Zeus looked ready for murder, Percy noticed. The King of the Gods was holding a hand to his throat, breathing heavily, while a darkness crawled throughout his eyes. Percy felt like he really didn’t care.

“You’re too dangerous to continue living,” Ares said.

Percy was really at his wits end; he could understand how Annabeth felt a lot of the time now.

“And yet who’s going to stop me? To stop us?”

“You don’t have Achilles’ curse anymore to protect you, young one,” Hera said. “I was there with you in New Rome when its power was ripped from your body.”

“I think you’ll find,” Annabeth started. She smirked, it’s gruesome look a reflection of all the danger that lay beneath her skin, in her mind. Percy loved it. “That neither of us need that sort of invincibility to end each and every one of you.”

A silence fell across the Hall of the Gods, no one speaking or even attempting to breathe. It was a palpable fear that hovered, as if Phobos and Deimos had exuded every bit of power they possessed into the room. Percy and Annabeth just stared each of the immortal figures down, daring any of them to say a thing.

It was Athena who finally broke.

“It’s unwise,” she began, “to come against us in our own home. Especially when we can, and will, consider the continued safety of your… _compatriots_.”

Athena was ever the strategist, but one day that may just be her own downfall. No one- _no one_ \- threatened Percy or his family without consequence. He would die to protect each and every one of those in his life.

“I was once told that personal loyalty would be my downfall,” he said, “That my family and friends could be held against my will to ensure my subservience. And yet I think you were wrong when you said that, Athena. I think that loyalty will be _your_ end.”

“Don’t you dare think to threaten me, Perseus. It won’t end well.”

Percy laughed, a dangerous, dangerous cackle.

“And what are you to do about it?”

He looked at each of the gods sat before him, who stood between him and Annabeth and all the quiet lives they deserved in this world. An itch crawled under his skin, to unleash himself well and truly to take down each of these immortal beings. It wouldn’t be quick, it wouldn’t be a clean fight, but he and Annabeth could do it. Would do it. To fall into the darkness, to let the power of Nyx consume them, and end those who dared to threaten them.

Athena’s eyes flashed. “Do not think to challenge us so, Percy Jackson.”

“Be quiet,” Annabeth snapped. “You never know when to call it quits, do you?”

“Annabeth-”

“I would listen to Percy, Mother. Lest you face your death at our hands.”

The Goddess of Wisdom and Knowledge and all the learning, curious things in the world, promptly shut herself up. It was a satisfying thought.

“It’s time you all learn,” Percy said. He flexed the fingers of his free hand, pulling Riptide up with his other. “You have to stop using children- stop _killing_ them. Just because you seem to be incapable of settling your own petty squabbles doesn’t mean we should suffer for it.”

Demeter jumped forward off her throne, replying, “That’s not fair. We try out hardest, our very best. But there is only so much interference the Fates allow for us.”

“The Fates would allow? Or just your own smug sense of importance when it comes to the insignificance of mortal life?” Annabeth muttered.

Percy laughed out loud. His girlfriend was the absolute _best_. Especially when it came to collectively threatening their parents.

“Hang on-”

But before Demeter could continue, Percy once more called upon the power within his system and stopped her from walking. He pulled at the golden ichor in her body and forced her to drop to her knees.

“We’re not going to hesitate to stop you,” he said. He basked in the moment a little longer, the goddess struggling on the floor, before he let go of the control he had. Demeter’s face was pale as she shuffled back to her throne.

This time, it was Poseidon, who stood up from where he was sitting. He looked more strained than ever, grey streaking his hair and dark wrinkles lining his face. “Perseus-“

“No,” Percy whirled. He looked his father straight in the eyes, his voice breaking for the first time since arriving on Olympus. “You don’t _get_ to do that. You claimed me to save yourself, not because you love me. You’re as bad as the rest of them. Worse, even.”

The God of the Sea looked as though someone had slapped him in the face. His voice was hoarse when he next spoke.

“What is it that you want then?”

The two demigods shared a look that spoke of a thousand and one different things. Percy smiled, and Annabeth only raised an eyebrow in response.

They knew what they had to do.

“Well,” Annabeth said. Her eyes flashed, and a steely resolve came over her entire body. “Neither of us wish to be gods, to rule anything, but we’ll settle for kings and queens if it means removing you scum from the face of the Earth.

“You’re also going to let us go,” she continued, a hand inching towards the drakon bone sword sheathed at her waist.

And Zeus, despite all that had just occurred, near scoffed. “And why would we do such a thing?”

“Because if you don’t,” Percy began, voice low and smile high, “we’ll force you to.”

Percy breathed in and he could almost taste the poison that had filled the site where Akhlys had died. Where he had killed her with Annabeth by his side. The Goddess of Misery had been no threat, and neither would the gods clustered before him.

“If it’s a fight you’re itching for,” Ares said, “I would happily give it to you.”

Percy and Annabeth glanced at each other.

Here was to new beginnings.


End file.
